


Vanilla Beaches

by beaniebaneenie



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Canon Divergence, First Kiss, Get Together, M/M, bittyparse - Freeform, meet cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2019-03-16 11:22:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13635282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beaniebaneenie/pseuds/beaniebaneenie
Summary: Bitty is 25, living on his own in Chicago, and loving his life... he sees a handsome stranger in distress and steps in to help, only to realize that stranger isn't much of a stranger after all.





	Vanilla Beaches

**Author's Note:**

> This is for my Valentine, stagemanagingsmh
> 
> Such a fun little ficlet to write, and if there is interest, I may play around and write some more in this universe after the Valentine's exchange is over. Big thanks to thehalfdesertedstreets for being my sounding board and helping me flesh out the prompt!

* * *

 

Sometimes, Bitty wasn’t quite sure how he’d gotten so lucky. Well, all right. He knew a few things about how he’d gotten here. Applying to the baker’s job at the Boston Whole Foods on a drunken whim was the start of it, really. He’d only done it to get Shitty to shut up – and to procrastinate some more on writing his thesis. Only to get called in for an interview a week later. And get the job a few days after that. Sure, he’d spent months living in Shitty’s guest room, but he’d paid a portion of rent, and eventually, when Chicago had been opening eight new stores, Bitty had been asked how he felt about a move. And a promotion to head baker.

He’d taken it, of course. Chicago had winter, but hell, so did Boston. And it had been awfully nice to truly be on his own, to really stretch his wings. He loved all his friends, he did. But living with Shitty in Boston had felt so much like an extension of college that some days, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to come into his own.

And now, here he was, sipping his coffee in Andersonville on a gorgeous sunny Chicago summer day. He’d left retail behind and had been a personal stylist for almost two years now. He had an apartment with a view of Lake Michigan. And he got to do things like this… just stroll down the street, having time to himself, able to be out of the closet and comfortable in his own skin at twenty-five years old. As he walked past the shops toward George’s – he felt like ice cream – Bitty’s eyes landed on a well-muscled guy in a tight grey tee-shirt and bright teal jeans. He could only see him from the back, but _lord_ , Bitty liked what he saw. Andersonville had a well-deserved reputation as being a very gay-friendly neighborhood, and during the summer, the rainbow stickers and flags came out in full force.

As he got closer, Bitty could hear snatches of the conversation, and couldn’t help but listen a bit.

“-really nice of you, but uh, I’ve-” The guy in the teal pants took a small step backwards, but another guy – a bigger guy, Bitty noticed – put an arm around his shoulders, pulling him closer.

“What, you got somewhere to be that’s better?”

“I just- like I said, I’m flattered,” teal jeans guy said, “but I-”

“Come on,” and now Bitty was close enough to see that the other guy was sneering. “Baby, you’re obviously dressed for it. Are you really trying to tell me your twink ass wasn’t gonna get picked up?”

“I- please-”

Bitty heard the slight tremor in teal jeans guy’s voice. Oh no, this was not going to happen, not on his watch. Bitty caught the eye of one of the employees, who nodded and moved toward the pair. He knew Tim was a good guy, and he was _huge_ … Bitty wasn’t stupid, he wanted to help, but if things got ugly, he knew he couldn’t really do much to stop the other guy.

Quickly sliding up to teal jeans guy, he let his voice get louder, putting as much force behind the volume as he could, and desperately hoping that teal jeans guy would understand that he was trying to help him.

“Oh, _there_ you are sweetpea! I’ve been lookin’ all over for you! Definitely my fault, I thought you said we were gonna meet later, and then I was all rushed – but here you are!” He put an arm around his back, a bit higher than he normally might have if this guy were actually his boyfriend, but he didn’t want to make him any more uncomfortable than he already was. Bitty was halfway up on tiptoe to press a soft kiss to the guy’s cheek to really sell it when he froze. Bitty knew that face, even though he hadn’t seen it since his sophomore year of college.

Kent Parson.

Kent Parson was here. In Chicago. At George’s, getting ice cream. And Bitty had been about to kiss him. This revelation completely stopped him in his tracks, but for his part Kent went with it, his eyes widening slightly as he saw Bitty, but relaxing a second later as he leaned down and pressed a feather-light kiss to Bitty’s jaw.

“Hey babe,” he said softly. “Was about to text you, glad you found me.”

Bitty heard the unspoken _thank you_ under this innocuous sentence.

The other guy scoffed. “Figures you’d find the one guy twinkier than you.”

Before either Kent or Bitty could say anything else, Tim growled up from behind the other guy. “We got a problem?”

Bitty smirked as the asshole went about four shades paler, and gently pulled Kent away. “Come on honey, let’s get out of here.”

Kent glanced back once, but quickly followed.

Once they were about a block away, Bitty dropped Kent's hand, trying not to think about the part of him that missed its warm weight in his.

“Um,” Kent said, “that guy, um, is he…” he trailed off a bit, looking lost.

“Oh sure, Tim’ll be fine. He sort of acts as an unofficial bouncer, and he’s helped me out of a couple jams before. I’ve been where you were,” he explained, “honestly, it’s like men are determined to be trash across all sexualities. Ugh, I’m sorry you had to deal with that.”

Kent just gave him a soft smile. “Thanks for the rescue, Eric.”

For the second time in ten minutes, Bitty’s brain stuttered to a halt. “You- you remember me? I mean,” he added quickly, “I definitely know who you are, but back there didn’t seem like the place to say. You had enough unwanted attention and- lord, here I go rambling when I asked you a question-” A horrible thought occurred to Bitty. If Kent remembered him from Epikegster all those years ago, he probably didn’t have the best opinion of him for eavesdropping on what had been a very private conversation.

“Yeah, I remember you,” Kent said. His face has the slightest blush, but his voice seemed easy. “You were really nice about asking for selfies… and you were the only one who asked me something about myself at that party,” he said. “Well, something that didn’t involve hockey.”

Bitty didn’t want to leave the elephant in the room, but before he could say anything, Kent beat him to it.

“I uh… I also remember you from outside Zi- Jack’s room,” he said, and now Kent was blushing in earnest. “So, um. I know you probably don’t- well, thanks for helping me, especially since you probably don’t like me much.”

Kent shuffled his feet, and Bitty’s heart clenched. “Oh honey, no,” he said. Kent’s eyes snapped up to meet his from where they’d been examining a piece of gum on the sidewalk.

“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better,” he said softly. “It’s okay.”

“I’m not lying though,” Bitty said. “Sure, there was a while there where I hated you,” and as he said it, Kent winced, though he looked like he was trying to hide it. That wouldn’t do. Bitty kept talking, trying to get the words out fast enough that he could erase that look from Kent’s face.

“But as I kept thinking about it, I just… honey, I realized that whatever went on, I didn’t know everything, y’know? There was a whole history there, and a door between me’n y’all… and lord knows I’ve seen Jack be a jerk. He’s been one to me enough before. And I’d be a big ol’ hypocrite if I got mad at you for saying things in the heat of the moment, goodness knows that I’ve done that before when I got mad at someone. Jack even said once that y’all both owed each other apologies… honey, I couldn’t hate you anymore for that.”

Kent looked about as lost and confused as Bitty had felt a few minutes ago. “Wow,” he said. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone be that nice to their boyfriend’s ex before,” he said, though his eyes had gone soft again and he looked grateful.

“Boy- what are you talking about, Kent?”

And Kent looked confused again. “Aren’t… you and Jack… I mean…”

Oh. Okay, now some things made sense, and as this last piece clicked into place, the knowledge that Kent was aware of Jack’s bisexuality from personal confirmation threw the Epikegster fight into clarity for him. “Kent, no… no, we’re not,” Bitty said gently.

“But – but I saw how he was looking at you. I know what that look means,” he said.

Bitty chuckled. “That makes one of us. I had no idea until he kissed me at his graduation.”

“He didn’t.”

“He did. Ran across campus and everything. But being honest? He’d never given me the slightest hint that he wasn’t straight as an arrow, and I’d gone and gotten over my crush a few months earlier. Plus, he hadn’t ever really apologized to me for all the trouble he’d put me through my freshman year.”

Kent looked like at least this sentiment he understood.

Bitty took a chance. “We’re still friends. But after a while, you know, once I was a few boyfriends into my own love life, I realized that whatever was between y'all – and lord, I am _not_ fixing to pry into your business, that is between y'all two, not me – anyway, whatever it was, there was probably more happening than I realized. So I figured it wasn't worth dwelling on, y'know?"

Kent was looking at him with such a soft smile that Bitty felt stripped bare, open and vulnerable, but he didn’t feel exposed. The air around him felt strange, like something was happening, or beginning to happen, and whatever it was would put Bitty on a path forward.

Kent bit his lip, rubbing his neck. Then he gave Bitty a sort of hopeful grin. "So... I don't actually know what you do for a living, so feel free to tell me to fuck off... but do have any advice for how to spend my afternoon? I only ever get here for games, and like, this city is supposed to be really pretty this time of year?"

Bitty laughed. "So you visit hockey cities during the off season?"

Kent shrugged, looking a little embarrassed, but he didn’t deny it. "I don't really have anything to do until August, and I make more money than I'm ever gonna spend anyway. Might as well see the sights. I travel a lot for games, but we're never anywhere long enough to..." he paused, fingers grasping like he was trying to find the right word.

"To breathe?" Bitty supplied, thinking that if his earlier guess about Kent was correct, and he also wasn't out to his team, he could certainly understand wanting to get away from Vegas and just be another faceless tourist.

Kent nodded. “Is…” he started to talk, but then cut himself off, like maybe Bitty wouldn’t want to hear it.

“Go ahead hun,” Bitty nodded.

“…is it weird that I still kinda want ice cream?”

Bitty laughed. “No, not at all. But for obvious reasons, I think we oughta go somewhere else.”

“We?” Kent seemed more shocked by this than anything.

“Sure, hun. I was there for ice cream too.” Unless Kent wanted to be by himself? “I mean, I’m not trying to impose or anything,” he said.

“Eric, you live here.”

“Exactly,” he argued. “I live here, I can go wherever I want, whenever I want. You’re only here for a little while, I don’t wanna ruin your vacation.”

“You already saved it,” Kent said softly.

“Well then,” Bitty said, knowing by now that Kent would try to hide this unplanned admission under a layer of sarcasm, “let’s get goin’. I know another place that’s got great frozen custard and is only a half mile from the beach.”

Lord, how could anyone in the media ever think they’d seen Kent Parson’s real smile? Compared to this one, the Media Smirk™ was clearly pasted on and faker than a soccer mom’s blonde highlights.

They walked along, chatting companionably about a host of topics, both easily keeping up conversation. Bitty frequently found himself wanting to hold Kent’s hand again, which was weird, considering he’d only held it before for about thirty seconds, and that had all been a ruse anyway.

Roughly forty-five minutes later, they both had big cones of frozen custard. Bitty had chosen chocolate, but he couldn’t stop staring at Kent’s vanilla. Not because he wished he’d chosen that flavor… but because he couldn’t stop staring at Kent’s tongue as he licked long, swirling stripes around the twisted curly-que of his cone. He was positive that Kent wasn’t doing it on purpose. But lord, it was _doing things_ to him to keep watching it. Things. Things like making him imagine what it might be like to kiss Kent.

“-beach?”

“Huh?” Bitty shook his head, dislodging the glorious image of Kent pinning him on a long beach chair and giving him cold sweet kisses that tasted like vanilla until he couldn’t remember his own name. He shouldn’t be thinking like that.

Kent smiled, giving his ice cream another lick. “You said something about a beach,” he repeated. “I mean, we’re probably like, fifteen hundred miles from the ocean in either direction, but I could definitely get us plane tickets if you’re really that desperate.”

And there was a thought. Kent probably would do it too, if Bitty asked him to. For a fleeting moment, Bitty almost considered taking him up on it… but he knew he had a client meeting tomorrow afternoon.

“Oceans aren’t the only beaches in this country, Mr. Parson,” he said, bumping his shoulder against Kent’s, and feeling a flush of warmth when Kent blushed and bumped him back. “Come on, let’s go.”

The ice cream was finished before they rounded the last block, which was good for a few reasons. Bitty wasn’t sure how much longer he could handle watching Kent’s tongue, but he also wanted to be able to fully appreciate Kent’s face when he saw the lake for the first time. He pulled out his phone in anticipation, hoping he could get a decent picture. Bitty wasn’t disappointed. They curved around from Thorndale to Sheridan and there she was, laid out in glittering deep cerulean glory.

Kent gasped softly, and Bitty stayed half a step to the side as he clicked a quick picture of the look of absolute surprise and delight on Kent’s face as he looked out over Lake Michigan. He checked to make sure the picture had taken, and gasped himself. The look on Kent’s face was so – it was – it was perfect. Bitty looked up. He had to see if the real Kent was as beautiful as the photograph.

The photograph didn’t do him justice. The line of his shoulders was open and relaxed, and Bitty followed it up to Kent’s jaw, his mouth gently curving in a delighted smile, his eyes, soft and beautiful, reflecting the bright blue of the lake, his sun-kissed freckles on his nose, and his flyaway golden hair, sunlight made substance as it blew in the soft breeze. This boy… this beautiful boy.

Without quite knowing how it happened, Bitty found his hands closing around Kent’s, who finally looked away from the lake and met Bitty’s eyes.

“Thank you,” Kent murmured. “Thank you so much, Eric. I- Today’s been-”

“Can I kiss you?” The question came out in a whisper, Bitty having asked without consciously deciding to.

Kent’s eyes went wide, his face flushing, though with embarrassment or want, Bitty wasn’t sure. Bitty watched as his eyes shifted, first going a bit grey, then green seeping in. When Kent spoke, it was in a voice even softer than Bitty’s.

“You really want to?”

He sounded so hopeful, but wary, like he expected to hear Bitty change his mind, to offer something he desperately wanted only to take it away.

Bitty couldn’t make the words come out, so he just nodded, bringing one hand up to gently brush his fingers through Kent’s hair.

Kent didn’t wait any longer, leaning down and meeting Bitty’s lips with his own, tentative and shy at first. Bitty’s eyes dropped closed as he let his fingertips slide through Kent’s hair, down his neck, gripping his shoulder. He wanted to hold Kent, to pull him closer, but he also didn’t want to lose the warmth of Kent’s hand in his.

Kent didn’t seem to want to lose it either. One of his hands found its way to Bitty’s waist and curled him closer. Bitty took the hint and pushed himself up on his tiptoes, wanting to be closer, to feel himself entirely pressed up against Kent, to feel every one of his muscles as Kent held him in turn.

After a minute – or several sunlit days, Bitty wasn’t sure – they broke apart, foreheads touching, fingers still intertwined, both breathing a bit heavy. Bitty broke the silence first.

“You got plans for dinner?” he asked, voice a bit husky.

Kent’s answering chuckle was just as deep. “Whatever you’re doing is good enough for me.”

“How long’re you here for?” he asked, meaning Chicago. But Kent’s response sent a thrill through him down to his toes, and Bitty knew that his earlier feeling had been right. This was definitely a new path, but he knew he’d be on this one for good.

“As long as you’ll have me.”

“An awful long time then.”

Kent’s kisses did taste like vanilla.

* * *

 


End file.
